


Tying A Knot of Another's Fate

by hahayeahno13



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 6000 words, 6yl future, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Bar, F/M, Family, Friendship, Humor, Minor Romance, One Shot, Other, POV Third Person, Swearing, Vodka, six years later future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hahayeahno13/pseuds/hahayeahno13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day where Gokudera contemplates his daily life in a downtown bar, just drinking away his stress and thoughts about the famiglia. Though, he did not expect to tie someone else's knot of so-called fate during his not-so-bright days. [future]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tying A Knot of Another's Fate

**Author's Note:**

> My very first story on AO3. Wow. Well, technically, this isn't my first story since I have an account on Fanfiction- but nevertheless. Gokudera seemed appealing to write about so I thought why not? I had a purpose for writing this but I can't remember what actually.
> 
> Well, anyways, happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: KHR characters are not mine  
> Warning: Swearing

* * *

 

XII **TYING A KNOT OF ANOTHER'S FATE** IIX

_-We don't meet people by accident. They are meant to cross paths for **a reason** \- by Anonymous_

**IIXXII**

* * *

At present, Gokudera Hayato, the man who was easily mistaken as a terrorist for reasons  _completely_  unbeknownst to him, was going through a stress relief therapy session. And by therapy, it was really just him chugging down a dozen shots of vodka at a bar near the corner of Vongola Headquarters. Regardless, he felt like he needed something vaguely similar to a therapy, or at least the feeling of it— whichever that works effectively. Perhaps he had just wanted some sort of mean to calm himself down after a load of shit at work. Vodka, to Gokudera and most of the Vongola Italian Branch, is always the solution.

Keyword:  _always_.

Had not the invention of vodka taken place, most of the Vongola branches would end up in a massive genocidal episode. Tenth had known to be (least to say)  _generous_  due to the fact that vodka are given top priority, with the official statement from Tenth himself, in the Vongola financial department. This meant that Tenth made sure that there is always ( _always_ ) vodka supplied in each branch. The Clear Draught of '13—the name,  _for the love of God_ , sent shivers down Gokudera's spine—was the pinnacle of it all. Tenth was sure as hell to not let  _that_  sort of history happen again, even if it meant half of his men would pass out on the clean floors of the Vongola Headquarters drunk. He was willing to risk it. It was enough for just Hibari to be the only lunatic going around and breaking Tenth's 'make-love-not-violence' rule—since he's the only bastard that can tear up the whole Vongola famiglia inside out if the rule was applied to him.

Now there was a question at hand. Why is Gokudera Hayato at a bar when his famiglia gave him vodka for free?

The answer was simple.

Gokudera had always known the innumerable drunkards that would roam the yards and the headquarters like a bunch of monkeys and hurling over the expensive carpeting, which was replaced repeatedly since the establishment was made. Sure, he could just drink at the Vongola served bar, but hell if he wanted to run into some sick bastards on the loose. He wasn't willing to, regardless of how much money it would save him weekly.

Thankfully, Tenth placed some ground rules.

 **1)**   **Vodka is completely prohibited during working hours**

**2) Vodka is not available in the weekend —unless necessary**

**3) The limit of vodka intake is the maximum of 4 (the number varies)**

**4) During drunken state, if one stumbles upon Hibari, run.**

The fourth one was unofficially discussed with the constitution, but Tenth completely agreed with it—a hundred percent.

Hibari had shown the greatest amount of disagreement to the establishment Tenth had made. He doesn't drink, much to the family's surprise because some would have at least thought he was more of a  _sake_  kind of man. They were proved wrong judging by the the fact that Hibari was beating the living shit out of the drunken men. Blood spilling was common when Hibari Kyoya was on a rampage, crying out for blood, thus adding another reason why the carpets were repeatedly replaced. However, Tenth had somehow managed to make a deal ( _and still retained his life_ ) of that bloodsucking demon to bring his rampage somewhere else,  _anywhere but the damn carpets_  because they were so expensive to replace. If blood were to spill on the carpets, Hibari would be obliged to pay for the expenses. Thank the lord that Tenth had balls to do so—Gokudera always knew Tenth was brave. The process, however, was indeed traumatic.

_"I'm glad that you somehow agreed to this, Hibari-san," Tsuna sounded utterly astounded, "Hopefully there will be a decrease in the demand of recruitment and medical expenses this year."_

_"Hn."_

_"I know it must be rather difficult for you to—" Tsuna tried to find the right word," control your tendencies to beat other people up but—"_

_"You mean murder."_

_"Uh—yeah, that. But well, I'm just advising you—Not that you have to follow it or anything. It's just a friendly advice from a colleague to another and you're not obliged to do it whatsoever. It's just mere recommendation—"_

_"Get to the point, Sawada Tsunayoshi."_

_"What I'm saying is that maybe—and please don't take this the wrong way because I really do want to help you—maybe, you should consider anger management...?"_

Hibari, being a lost demon he is, obviously took it the wrong way.

And all hell broke lose.

Seriously, who didn't see that coming.

But thankfully, Gokudera sincerely thanked every supreme being that he thought existed profusely for the miracle, Tenth managed to come out alive. Barely. He wisely activated his Hyper Dying Will mode before the whole fiasco started up. However, his painstakingly tailored suit was completely obliterated in the process of it all. Still, it was completely worthless compared to Tenth's life.

A third of Vongola's men died that day. Well, not really. They were probably questioning how they even _managed_  to attain a position in the Vongola Famiglia in those 'special wards' in the Vongola Private Hospital. Technically speaking, those were the lucky ones. The ones who are—uh—in the  _less fortunate_  side however, God save them, had to be placed in ICU.

—Which, undoubtedly, increased Vongola's current medical expenses to a shocking (nothing surprises Tenth nowadays, really) 50%. He was pretty much petrified by the fact that Vongola had more expenses now before the deal with Hibari. But it was only that he, keyword being  _tried_ , to look on the bright side of things.

Despite the fact that Hibari had once again increased the demand of recruitment— and for pete's sake, the  _fucking carpets again_ — Tenth was eased by the fact that after the deal was made, there would be less deaths— uh— he meant, injuries. As of now. Maybe. To be honest, Gokudera wasn't sure either.

But then, blood-and-hurl-free carpets. It was a win.

It was something. Tenth tried and barely made out with his skin attached to his muscles. It was accomplishment enough.

"Give me another one," Gokudera mused out after swallowing down his seventh shot of vodka, slamming it down onto the table. The bartender nodded and served him another.

6 years.

They had been through things together for 6 years.

Gokudera almost scoffed at how ridiculously long it was. He was surprised he was still here, alive and well, despite all the past events that threatened his life before. He still couldn't quite grasp the fact that he was in a famiglia, the  _Vongola Famiglia_  nevertheless, with all of his middle school friends (he wasn't going to admit it to them) still in contact with each other and hang around. It was ridiculous how they managed to get this far in life;  _together_  nonetheless.

He wanted to admit that perhaps the vodka was taking an effect on him right now, because he was starting to reminisce the past they had together; the time they met, the festival, the fight with Mukuro (it still bothers him in a way), the parties, the ten years later tragedy— everyone of them. Not to mention, the amount of stress and problems they had to overcome together as a famiglia.

He had always wondered how Tenth was able to put up with so much shit everyday without resorting to some sort of stress relief— like vodka or beer. It was tiring to even just look at him while he does his duties as Vongola Decimo. With all the recruitment, not to mention the hell pile of paperworks stacked upon his desk every day would have been a suicidal act for Gokudera. He couldn't even handle his load of paperwork (much less Tenth's), thus the weekly consumption of Vodka. Of course, every Vongola member have their share of paperwork— it was just a matter of whether they were diligent enough to do it or not. The baseball freak (aka. Yamamoto) occasionally contributes to his duties, although it doesn't count since he somehow manages to either lose the paperwork or say that Jirou (the dog) had eaten them. Gokudera would probably say that the guy was making up lame and cliched excuses. However, after the incident with the dog barfing up the baseball freak's paperwork in front of his office was enough evidence he needed.

If the turf head stayed in one place, he would probably do his paperwork more often. The boxer was always travelling, similar to the demon of Namimori, and was in charge of the social interventions of Vongola, you know, with his _vibrancy like the sun and all that_. Therefore, he isn't always present at the HQ, which rendered Gokudera to have no choice but to do away with his load. Thankfully however, the turf head was diligent in his daily 'extreme' reports, so Gokudera was glad that he has less of a burden to carry.

Lambo, on the other hand, doesn't do  _shit_ — well, mostly because he's only a teenager (as how Tenth would put it) so there's not much to talk (or even a need) about him. He does help around whenever Tenth needed some assistance with some errands. At least the brat helped around more nowadays compared to previous years.

Mukuro, on the other hand, was always either not present or just vanishes into thin air. Honestly, Tenth would not be surprised if he had miraculously vanished from an important Vongola meeting. Gokudera expected the creep to be that way, since he was not exactly in good terms with the Vongola despite the official confirmation of his position in the famiglia. Gokudera wondered if he was still scheming to conquer the famiglia, _even though the bastard is in it_ , but Tenth didn't seem to mind his presence much in meetings or parties. One can deduct from that that Mukuro does not touch a single paperwork _in his lifetime_ , which therefore added more to Gokudera's list of things to worry about. His counterpart, Chrome, was a different case. If Gokudera wasn't so, you know,  _tsundere_ , he would've thanked her for taking the load off of him. Thank God she was around, though Gokudera was practically weirded out by the fact that she didn't follow Mukuro and instead remained behind in the HQ, but he wasn't complaining. Though, he had to occasionally tell her to write and sign off on the lines provided. It might be the eye-patch.

And then there was Hibari, the demonic asshole.

Much to Gokudera's surprise, he does his part rather well. He diligently does his paperwork and punctually sends them. Gokudera had a suspicion that perhaps his right-hand man (Kusakabe, was it?) had a role in the submissions of the paperworks, but Gokudera's not complaining. There were times, however, when Hibari would drop off his load of paperwork onto Gokudera's table with a grumble, glaring daggers at him with thick voluminous aura of  _"I'll bite your head off"_  that could probably choke a cow. Despite that, he managed to submit them so it was okay. Regardless of the fact that Gokudera did not have to do his load, he still had to bother himself with paperwork  _regarding_  Hibari. Biting new recruits to death, missing members, property damage, blowing up mansions, picking fights with people,  _the goddamn carpeting,_  coma-induced security members, missing CCTV cameras, punishing new recruits even though they had just been assigned to him literally 5 seconds before; those were all Hibari alright. It didn't make a difference whether or not he did his paperwork— Gokudera still had to do shit for him.

If it were him in Tenth's shoes, Gokudera would probably had blown himself up with dynamites strapped onto him. How Tenth managed all those people was a mystery to Gokudera, and also a miracle; more reasons to add on why he was such a good boss to the famiglia. Gokudera nodded with a satisfied expression. It was good that the famiglia had a good leader, with all the shit going on in Vongola.

He set his glass down, contemplating whether he should just head home or back to the Vongola Base in a slur. Thankfully, he had high tolerance of alcohol, thank god for his vodka drinking genes to the bastard, so he wouldn't be intoxicated that easily.

However…

He might have taken too much today, more than usual perhaps. Gokudera blinked. Perhaps it was just the vodka, or maybe it was him being delusional. Maybe it was just an enigma of his stress taking shape into something he could visibly see with his own eyes. Maybe, maybe not. Whatever the case was, next to him was a woman, probably around his age, sitting next to him on a stool.

Of course, that was completely normal. He was not trying to be stereotypical here. He really wasn't. Perhaps more detail would suffice to understand his confusion at the moment.

Her chestnut hair was pulled into a braid and knotted with a neat bun, embroidered with delicate flowers and diamond-like stones. Although, her hair seemed to be slightly disheveled of some sort, with her chestnut strands loose from the carefully braided hair. He could tell she had some sort of make-up on since her cheeks seemed to be rosy and flushed (or maybe it was the vodka? Gokudera wasn't entirely sure) and her long lashes which rested upon them. What confused him was the fact that she wore a white elegant dress decorated with chiffon fabric and silky texture underneath, ruffled on her seat she was sitting. She was barefoot; he'd taken notice at her curling toes. He blinked once again before slowly setting down his vodka, a sigh leaving his lips. He probably had too much today.

The woman sniffled. "Two shots of vodka." The bartender, as usual, nodded and proceeded to grab a glass and served her vodka. She immediately took the small drinking glass into her trembling hands, chugged it down, slamming the glass onto the table and sniffled before calling out for another.

Gokudera, at this point, contemplated whether he should  _really_  resort to a therapist. He was imagining things. Not just any ordinary things, a fucking bride chugging down multiple shots of vodka and was seated next to him. He confirmed that he was indeed getting hallucinations and decided he should stop drinking for today, and intended to go back to HQ or his house— wherever that could get him out of this situation.

"What am I going to do?" The woman choked out among her soft sniffles, covering her face with her pale hands after drinking the shots. Gokudera was at turmoil. Being the kind of man he is, he didn't know what to do or what to say. He was probably high, so he might as well just head on home before things lead to worse situations. He lifted himself from his seat and proceeded to the door, passing a group of disheveled men in the bar that were drinking and chatting loudly as Gokudera's ears could take.

"Hey, five thousand yen say that I could bring that wannabe-bride home and get laid." A man piped up to his stubbled-faced friend on a passing table.

Gokudera stopped in his tracks.

The friend laughed, encouraging him to do it.

Now, Gokudera was near the door. He could simply turn the  _godforsaken knob_  and leave, being a complete stranger to the situation and move on with his life not caring about this, and perhaps the next day, there would be some sort of news on TV reporting a lost bride who deliberately went missing from her own wedding and still, it would have no relation to him whatsoever. Or, Gokudera contemplated further, he could simply just beat up the guys right now and be involved in some sort of fiasco that he would not get himself away from? Gokudera pressed his lips into a thin line, his silver eyebrows furrowed together on his conflicted features.

"Hey," the man slurred in his words, wearing an impish smile, "Wanna drink with us?"

The woman looked surprised as she turned to face him, before her eyes casted on the polished wooden floors of the bar. "No, I'm not really—"

"Aw, come on," He purred, before caressing her bare shoulder, "It's just drinking. It won't hurt—"

The man felt a strong hand on his shoulder, and turned to look at whoever it was. "Anymore, and I'll blow up your ugly face," Gokudera gripped his shoulder, his eyes burnt with disgust by what he was beholding. He could feel the man shiver under his grip, and pulled his offending hand from her. "F-Fine, whatever. What an asshol—"

A fist connected on the man's right cheek, the impact making him basically flying onto the polished floors along with clinks of several teeth that had fallen out, howling out curses as he gripped his cheek in pain. Gokudera, bewildered, looked at his fist before looking at the man repeatedly, blinking profusely.  _When the hell—_

"The only asshole here is _you_. Now get your drunken ass out of here and get a life,  _pervert_. "

Gokudera threw a glance at the direction of the voice, rather cautiously even.

The white dressed woman had balled her hand into a fist, a slight tinge of red hue gracing upon the knuckles of her hand. She shook her hand several times, (it probably hurt for someone who looked as fragile as her) before grimacing at the sight of the man, as if taunting him to get the hell out of here.

They blinked.

_Eh._

_Eh..?_

_Ehhhhhhh—!?_

Sweat rolled down both men's features, their widened eyes not believing the sight they were witnessing before them. Gokudera's eyes twitched in disbelief, his jaws had involuntarily dropped onto a disbelieving feature. He was shaking from the shock of it all, and if it wasn't for him gripping his palm into a fist right now, his fingers would have been shaking from disbelief as well. His brain, at the moment, had taken its time to fully understand what had truly happened.

She punched the guy.

She bruised his cheek.

About three or four teeth had fallen out because of it.

_What the fuck._

_'But she looked like she could barely carry a sack of potatoes!'_ Gokudera mused in his thought, clenching his jaw so he could shut up and not freak out about the whole incident. Was this what Tenth meant when he mentioned to not judge a book by it's cover? Truthfully, Reborn-san was a prime example in that regard, however, this would be the next thing that would appear in his mind whenever that statement shows up. Surely, one would think that Gokudera would not surprised with this anymore since the mafia had whole lot of women who are physically capable of hauling his ass (probably Shitt-P and Adelheid but since he won with Shitt-P, it didn't count), but honestly, Gokudera felt so attacked right now.

" _G-Gah_ , y-you—! You're a monster!" The man seethed through the clenches of his teeth.

He then took his leave with his friend, although with slight hurry due to the fact Gokudera was practically emanating his ' _time-to-haul-your-ass-or-I'll-dynamite-your-house_ ' aura the whole time they were leaving. Gokudera sighed and his eyes trailed over to the woman.

"If you don't want to get fucked up,  _get out of here_ ," He growled, "This place is full of these things."

She jolted, as if she had not expected Gokudera to be there or she was in some sort of trance and casted her grey eyes onto the floors, looking down on the bare feet. "I-I'm sorry," she uttered, "I-I'll leave right away."

She sniffled again before tears began to roll down her cheeks, dripping onto her dress. She choked and sniffled. "I-I-I'm so sorry for causing you t-trouble. I'll l-leave right away. I-I just need to—"

She bursts into silent tears.

Gokudera's brain, meanwhile, had no idea what the hell was going on. First, she was like a  _grown-ass gorilla_  protecting her young from any impending danger of predators, and now she was sniffling and crying like a girl who had just lost her balloon in an amusement park. He was not experienced with women (let alone to know or solve their problems), but this was by far the most outrageous thing he had ever witnessed. Probably. Gokudera didn't know; he probably lost count of all things he listed as 'outrageous' since there were so many of them in 20 years of his life.

Was she bipolar or something? Or was she experiencing PMS? To be honest, Gokudera didn't want to know. As he speculated the crying woman with crinkled eyes and his eyebrows furrowed into a scowl, he wondered if he had involved himself too much into the situation and if it was too late to formulate an escape plan from this. Beads of sweat rolled down his features as he noticed the customers in the pub were occasionally shifting their glances between him and the woman, as if expecting him to do something about it. He glanced at the bartender, in hopes of him helping Gokudera out after all those years of coming to this bar and purchasing his goods and it had all somehow lead to this thread of friendship to form between the two of them.

The bartender merely stared at Gokudera, before he shifted his hand slightly. Gokudera sucked in a sharp breath, expecting something from the bartender, anything that would get him out of this.

He gave him a thumbs up.

And Gokudera swore he saw a glint of sparkle as he did that with that poker face of his.

_Yeah fuck you too, bartender._

He bit the insides of his cheek, contemplating under the pressure of the atmosphere. It was suffocating, as if he was drowning in the sea of pressure of the people in the bar. He gulped, his breathing becoming more dangerously erratic than before. Clenching his eyes shut, he sighed out, scratching his head brashly.

He was going to regret this.

He grabbed the woman's arm ("H-Hey, w-what are you—?"), and pulled her to the stool she sat in before, and settled her down. He pulled a stool next to her, feeling awkwardness brimming from every second of his actions, and propped himself down. He looked up at the staring bartender.

"Vodka. And a glass of water for the woman here," he sighed, receiving a nod from the bartender. Another glass wouldn't hurt. He needed it to survive this.

By the time the bartender had served them the drinks, her sobs lessened into sniffles. Gokudera,  _for the good of his sanity_ , thanked the lord that she wasn't wearing any eyeliner that would have resulted a mess after she cried. Either that, or her make-up was waterproof. Whatever it was, it was enough for new customers that came in to not know what had happened before this, and that she was crying. Gokudera sighed heavily.

"Thank you," she muttered to him, holding the glass of water in her shaking pale hands.

Gokudera never really liked to meddle with someone else's business, a total different case from Tenth. However, he had a feeling he was somehow wrong in this regard, according to last  _not-so-nice_  experiences. He was contemplating so much at this but he was too involved in this woman's life right now to retreat. Should he be really doing this right now?  _Geezus._

"You," he began, the atmosphere of awkwardness filled between the two, "You shouldn't be drinking vodka right now."

She managed to chuckle a small laugh. "I just—I really needed it."

He glanced over to her, suddenly his sister's wedding came into mind. Regardless of how much a fluke it was, it was still considered a wedding with 'Reborn', despite the fact she was marrying a robot and the cake which could have _killed_  all the guests in the ceremony ( _Well, that was a joy ride_ ). Regardless, her feelings towards him was real, and the mood was somehow identical to an actual wedding ( _well, it's supposed to be anyway_ ). She was happy though— to be able to be married to him, even though they didn't. But still, shouldn't this woman here be happy too?

Gokudera thought he sounded like a confused cupid. He grimaced, before settling down.

"Second thoughts?" He asked, couldn't help but feel slightly curious towards the problem. It wasn't everyday you run into a runaway bride, so why the hell not? She nodded, her sad smile etched across her face. He sighed, taking a sip of his vodka ( _just in case,_  Gokudera needed to be sure) and placed it down. "What's stopping you?"

"Nothing really," she piped up, surprised by his recent question before casting her eyes downcast once again, "It's just that…I-I'm really nervous."

That was it?

He couldn't even begin to comprehend  _why_  he had even _bothered_  in the first place, She was drinking  _vodka_  just what could possibly be  _minutes_  away from her _fucking weddin_ g and  _almost got laid_  by a random man who was high from his vodka and  _fucking hell punched him in the face_  because she was just fucking nervous?  _Was she nuts?_  As someone who had never been married or dated before, even Gokudera personally thought that was a bad idea. It was a fucking recipe for immeasurable disaster, that's what it was. Perhaps she wanted it to be a memorable pre-wedding and live to tell the tale to her children?  _You know, kids? Before mommy got married with daddy, mommy went to a pub, drank, and when this very bad man started to bother mommy, mommy punched him in the face. Then mommy met a man who gave her an inspirational speech and mommy went back to the wedding and married your father! And that's how you should have your pre-wedding, kids!_

Yeah, sure. Why not just start a  _fucking sitcom_  while you're at it— that would've worked better.

Gokudera massaged his temples, trying to comprehend the logic behind this nonsensical situation.  _God._  Did he  _have_  to ask  _why_  she was nervous? He  _really_  didn't want to. Couldn't he just pay for her drinks and leave— that counted as helping, right? He grumbled under his breath, his thumb caressing the edge of the small cup holding the liquor.

"What," He was reluctant to ask, trying to not get involved, "Are you so nervous about then?"

He sounded like one of those couple therapists, much to his dismay.

He had that tickling feeling of a scoff that urged to come out of his throat.  _Like she'd tell him_. As if she'd tell a stranger whom she just met— whom she didn't know that he did not willingly wanted to help her— something so personal. His IQ must have decreased dramatically after laying eyes on the man from before.

She was looking at him, bewildered, as if he had said something wrong somewhere. He fidgeted in seat, shifting his gaze around random things that could distract him from directly looking at her.  _For shit's sake, stop looking at me like that_.

It was then he heard her soft chuckle again. It wasn't like one of those happy chuckles or an amused one— it was a sad chuckle, as if she had contemplated her wrong choices that led to this exact moment. It reminded him of something he thought he had forgotten; something he had thought he had overcome years ago. It was so similar to the one  ** _she_**  used to do it; a chuckle that was  ** _brimming_**  and  ** _dripping_**  with ** _loneliness_**  and  ** _fear_**  and  ** _devoid of hope_**. The chuckle she used to direct to him when he asked if she was alright during one of her scarce visits. The chuckle he used to hear when his bastardly father invited her to live in the residence. The chuckle that he was too  ** _stupid_  **and  ** _dumb_**  to realize the meaning behind them when it had so outright screamed to him as if she was yelling out " **HELPMESAVEMEITHURTSWHYARENTYOUDOINGANYTHING** " until—

_Dammit._

A pang of guilt struck Gokudera as he clenched his teeth together to somehow endure the feeling. He gripped his palm; his nails dug deep into his skin. He snapped his eyes shut, as if trying to calm himself down from the profound anxiety he had uncovered like an ancient burial ground. His breathing became erratic, rapid like an old engine that roared into life once again. It was like the air around him blanketed his breathing air and suffocated him to derail him of his living path. He bit his lip, the pain seemed to linger at him but he doesn't know  ** _where_**  or  ** _how_**  to even approach it. He loosened his grip, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips as he glanced at his silver Rolex wrapped around his wrist.

_He couldn't take it anymore._

_He was suffocating in this place._

_He needed to get out of here._

_That's it._

"You know what—"

"I'm scared."

Gokudera paused. His ragged breaths were still evident, beads of sweat were rolling down his now-pale features. He turned to her, cautiously, like he was being injured by a greater force than himself. Her hands were pale and shaking, gripping onto the fabric of her white dress like she was gripping at the last hope in her life. She was on the verge of tears; her eyes were brimming with glimmering tears that threatened to stain her dress with grey colours once again. She sucked in a sharp breath, like the ones to calm yourself down, before drowning them into the back of her throat. She was struggling with something.

"What," she croaks out, fighting against the tears, "W-What if we do get married, but we don't get along? What if he decides to think that I'm not who I am; that I'm not the one he fell in love with? What if he backs away from the wedding? What if all those times we had together was just for fun and he wasn't thinking of getting married with me? What if I don't reach his parent's expectations? What if...W-What if he decides that he wasn't in love with me anymore…?"

Gokudera was silent.

"Y-You saw how I was like," her voice cracked, "I'm crude, I'm ruthless, I'm just like a guy, I'm not polite like the others, I'm violent; does anyone in the right mind would not rethink their decisions when they look at me? Would even they still l-love me…? W-Would h-he…"

_Ah._

_So that's why…_

Gokudera took a deep breath, one that filled his lungs to ease the anxiety he had,and breathed out. Slowly, he sat back down onto his seat, searching for the right words to say to her. He didn't quite understand why he suddenly felt compelled to help her, compared to how he was before the beginning of this situation. Even after his sudden anxiety, that would've been all the more reason why he should have left. But-

Why was he still here…?

"If," Gokudera managed to find his voice somehow despite his ragged breathing, even in the atmosphere impregnated with awkwardness and silence, "If he doesn't appreciate you for who you are, then he's one dumb asshole."

She looked up from her dress with widened eyes, tears streaming down her stained cheeks. Gokudera continued, "I don't know how long you guys have been together, but even after all those months or years, if he still doesn't get how much you mean to him and is willing to back away from the wedding, he's not worth your time."

He swallowed his own words. _God_ , he sounds like a love doctor now; it was disgusting. The word "love" was starting to make his mouth taste bad.

"If, presumably, he does loves you, he would be willing to go through anything for you. He would probably like to listen to your problems, and try and figure out the answer along with you, even when you tell him not to. He would do anything to make you stop crying, suffering. Everytime he sees you, he would be excited, happy," Gokudera looks down onto his hands, his pale green irises glimmering, "He would still remember you, even when you're gone."

_Maybe. Maybe she would still be **alive**  if he—_

Gokudera snapped up and blinked. He looked at the woman next to him, and was somewhat relieved to see her tears were dried off, her grey irises were staring back at him, shining in hope. He looked down, feeling his cheeks heat up from the unexpected reaction.

"D-Don't take it the wrong way, you  _stupid woman_! I wasn't talking about a lover! I was talking about someone else!" He grumbled, trying his best to hide the red hue on his cheeks. He heard the woman laugh, before his hands began to twitch. "What are you laughing-"

"Still, it's someone important, right?" She smiled, wiping away the tears on her features, "Even though it's not a lover, it's still someone you treasure. You were only speaking what you think is right."

Gokudera fell silent. He wasn't aware of the fact that he was practically speaking from what he felt. He had no experiences with a lover he could call his own, or even an experience of it. He would admit that he had read several magazines that had, weirdly enough, contained some love advices. He thought they were pretty much ridiculous as he had deemed them be useless. It would have been useful, however, in this situation but he may have forgotten it all in the midst of the drama. He had the urge to scoff at how cheesy he came to be, and the corners of his lips curled into a small smile.

Perhaps, ** _she_**  also thought the same way as well.

…

He threw a glance at his watch, taking note of the time it was at the moment. He shifted his gaze at her, "Hey, stupid woman."

She turned to him, with a surprised look on her face, as if she was in deep thought before. Gokudera pointed his finger towards the door, his left arm rested on the cool surface of the bar. "Aren't you going to make sure he's waiting for you on the altar?"

Her eyes widened at this, before she stepped off the stool she was sitting on and brushing off her white dress, her features seem to lit with a new profound life. She turned to the bartender, and questioned him if she looked okay despite the chaotic mess of her hair. He nodded and smiled at her, gifting her a bottle of expensive wine he managed to pull out from the high shelves of his bar. She laughed, profusely thanked him for the gift (though Gokudera had a feeling she would finish the bottle in matters of seconds) and proceeded to the door, bare feet and all. She pulled the bar door, with a slight ring of the tinkering bells adorned on top.

However, before she stepped out into the world once again, much to Gokudera's surprise, she turned around and flashed the brightest smile he'd seen her since the beginning of the whole incident.

"I'll do my best!" She pumped her fists into the air, full of enthusiasm, and bows a perfect ninety degrees towards Gokudera.

"Thank you!"

And she disappears. Like snow upon reaching the warmth of a palm.

Amidst the cheering and clapping crowd, some confused, some teary-eyed from the whole speech, Gokudera stared at the door, his mind full of thoughts. He helped  _a stranger_ , he mused, someone whom he didn't know and wasn't involved with. Perhaps now, this experience would be just a lingering memory in the future, not at all important to him among other things, as he moves on with his life. Perhaps the wedding would not turn out as she hoped and her worst fears do come true. Gokudera, as _tsundere_  as he is, thought that that would not be the case. Perhaps she would remember it as  _'the day a stranger helped puzzle back my life together in thirty minutes_ ', and tell her children about it, and eventually, start a sitcom about it.

Gokudera had the urge to chuckle and scoff at that thought.

Well,  _almost_.

He didn't even know her name, he realized. Neither did she know his. Gokudera, amidst with the dissipating claps and cheers of the customers, concluded that it may be just a passing fate, and he simply tied her fate into a neat knot so she could move on and give her the final push. He didn't like to be used that way, but this time, he didn't seem to mind as much. He also wondered if this was a way for him to get his therapy as,  _weirdly enough_ , he could breathe properly now, his lungs filled with content in each breath he took, if not clearly compared to even before this.

Among the turbulent thoughts that seemed graced his now clear mind, he wanted to rue the thought of having a lover and wondered if he, too, will end up like that woman, searching for answers that are needed to calm oneself. He didn't like that, and thought he would probably be better off living alone anyway. However, he felt the sense that he might need a  _sense of support_  from someone, regardless of how much he thought he would be able to make through his persistent life alone.

And he also wonders, if her beloved was really on the altar.

...

Regardless, Gokudera realized something as he stepped out of the cool bar into the cobbled streets, and felt rather uncomfortable.

And all that time, where he had helped her from the man ( _even though he didn't actually do anything_ ), to his anxiety attack, to her confession, to his advice, the bartender was there the  _whole time in front of them_ , watching over them while those things happened probably like some kind of TV show of some sort.

Gokudera looked back into the glass door, looking at the bartender who was diligently wiping the table away with a rag in his hands. He sighed, a swirl of frosty cloud dissipating into the air as he took a step into the streets.

...

_Fucking creep._

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind the ending. It's supposedly humorous. Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading that long one-shot (gosh I realized how long it was). You can show your appreciation i guess haha. Gonna think about whether or not I'll make this to a collection of one-shots of different characters.
> 
> Thank you! :D


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